The PlayerKing's Will
by The Chainsaw Juliet
Summary: Does a Division leader ever 'switch off? Even on New Year's Eve, William spends his time thinking about the duty he performs without complaint and all that must be done. A certain red-haired field agent decides to teach him it's alright to be selfish


_Our wills and fates do so contrary run  
That our devices still are overthrown;  
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own_

_-The Player King  
_

_**(Hamlet, Act III, Scene II)**_

* * *

He thinks too much. He knows he thinks too much because he has _thought_ about thinking too much and deduced from his own observations that he did indeed spend too much time thinking. Such was how his mind functioned; constant thought organized into sub-categories slotted into categories and filed away for later use.

Even on a night like this, he cannot stop thinking about all he has yet to tend to. The new field agents will arrive from their training in a month's time, ready to be dispatched into London. There will be paperwork concerning their lodging, their uniform, their missions, their Lists and their weapon of choice will have to be approved. There are last minute files that need signing concerning the most recent deaths. There are new Lists to look over.

He knows he should be enjoying the annual event but like the previous New Year's Eve ball, he is thinking too much. So much so that he is standing alone on a balcony overlooking the city full of people whose deaths he will organize, and thinking about the forms he will need to approve for each and every death. After all, his is a duty no one else can perform so flawlessly. No else _wants_ to perform his duty; a duty that steadily consumed one's life until every moment was dedicated to running the English Soul Reaper Division. Every hour was allotted a task, whether it was organizing dispatch units, briefing field agents or filling out paperwork.

Every moment his mind has to be alert, paying astute attention to every minor detail lest he do the unthinkable, the unspeakable, the _unforgivable_ and commit an error. He is William T. Spears, and he is professional, persevering and perfect.

Though on a night like this, William wishes he is none of those things and instead merely a man watching his workmates enjoy the one night they can act as human as those they kill. They are not dressed in their plain black and white uniform, but instead are donned in smart tailcoats and breathtaking gowns. They dance and they laugh and they gossip instead of taking lives and writing reports.

William wishes he is more like Grell Sutcliff, just for tonight. Grell is able to mingle amongst his peers and compliment how tonight Annette resembles Ophelia in a river, with her blue gown and flowers in her hair. Grell is able to congratulate John on his marriage to Ekaterina, the Soul Reaper transfer from Russia, wishing them a beautiful love like Romeo and Juliet. Grell is able to smile and laugh and joke and dance and _enjoy_ the night.

Were it not the ball, Grell would _still_ be able to enjoy each and every day. His desk is cluttered with ragdolls, theatre tickets, pamphlets, Shakespeare books and photographs. His giggle is notorious throughout the Division and he is known for his enthusiasm and habit of randomly embracing people.

It begins to rain, the droplets like tiny beads of glass shattering against the balcony railing. William sips his champagne, thinking that Grell will enjoy watching the rain more than he. Grell sees the rain as Heaven's tears weeping for the tragic heroine London plays on the world's stage. William sees the rain as the collection of moisture in cloud formations being released due to gravity.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Speak of the sharp-toothed devil.

"I imagine my thoughts are worth more than a penny." William notes, taking another sip of the sparkling drink.

"You'd be rich by now, no matter _what_ a single thought was worth because you think _all_ the time." Grell Sutcliff stood beside him, toying with the ends of his braided hair. He is dressed like a gentleman, only that his cravat is instead a velvet red bow and a lady's rouge touched his eyelids.

William says nothing, for both know Grell's words are true.

"Why are you hiding out here? People are looking for you inside, and some want a dance with you." The redhead pouts, a familiar expression he used often on the boss. "_I_ want a dance with you."

"I do not dance and I do not mingle. I seldom have time for such frivolous activities." The stoic superior continues to gaze at the twinkling London lights.

"Tonight is all_ about_ frivolous activities." Grell reminds him with a giggle. "For one night, can't you stop thinking and just be…William?"

"'William' does not stop thinking, for he is the Division leader whose very life is dedicated to the great honor and responsibility that is to ensure Death completes the circle of Life." Curt answer given.

"That is a textbook answer but not a _personal_ answer." A moment of poignant revelation found in the form of a charismatic redhead with a toothy grin. A moment's pause.

"I cannot stop thinking simply because I cannot stop thinking. I have schooled myself to do this in order to perform my duties without overlooking anything." He cannot bring himself to look at those green eyes, finding more comfort in watching the rain fall and gauging the distance it fell from the sky until it hit the roofs of Parliament House. "If someone in my position were to err, it would be disastrous for _all_ levels of the Division."

The rain fills the silence between them, hushing and shushing London even on a night of festivities. It is meant to snow, but the temperature is not cold enough. William is glad. He needs the rain to make the silence less loud. The topics of work were comforting to speak about, not his personal life or lack thereof.

"What is your New Year's resolution?" Grell asks, initiating conversation once more. The dark-haired man contemplates his answer, allowing the redhead to answer first.

"I want to stop chasing after Romeo and fall in love already." He laughs cheerfully, stepping into the rain and standing by the balcony railing. "_Romeo Romeo, where for art thou Romeo?" _

"I resolve not to allow anymore regulations to be overlooked by field agents." William speaks thoughtfully. Grell's pout was predicted correctly.

"That's a work related resolution! What about something for you?" He prods William's chest, one of the few people who could get away with physical contact. "For _you_, Mister Spears, _not_ the Division!"

When is that not one and the same? Never. Still, for curiosity's sake he pieces together an answer.

"I resolve to learn how to stop thinking all the time."

"I can teach you that right now. It's really, _horribly_ simple William." The field agent sighs dramatically, gesturing with a hand and accidentally spilling some champagne.

"Really?" William raises a brow, question dry with sarcasm. "Do humor me."

"First, hold my glass please." He offers him his drink. William obliges, taking the glass in his other hand.

His lips are wet with the sudden kiss, hands on his cheeks pulling him down as Grell tipped up on his toes to compensate for the height difference. The glass flutes fall from William's hands, shattering onto the balcony to mingle with the shards of rain from the sky.

So many observations could have been made; Grell's lips were warm and he tasted like sweets and champagne, they were getting wet because they had stepped out fully onto the balcony, inside everyone was counting down to the New Year…

But William's mind was _not_ full; for once the scholarly mind was completely devoid of content. Instead, his chest felt unbearably tight as he pulled the redhead closer against him and kissed deeper.

For once, he hopes he can keep a scrap of happiness for himself. Deeper inside his barricaded heart, where he is 'just William' and not the Division superior, he hopes this won't be just 'for once'.

"See?" Grell whispers, a rosy maiden's blush on his cheeks. "Now your mind is empty, and your heart is full." The last words inflected slightly, as though he is asking a question instead of making a statement.

"I am a man of principal and order, Grell Sutcliff." William clears his throat, ignoring the crestfallen expression on his workmate's face. "I am not a man who will simply accept something to be true the first time around."

"If I…" The redhead tentatively dances around his words, "if I did it again, perhaps then you'd believe me?"

"I am willing to accommodate that possibility, yes."

This time, he knew the kiss was coming and did nothing but welcome it in with the New Year.


End file.
